


Lachesism

by Ace_of_Butterfly



Series: Tokyo Ghoul :RE - Imagination Shades [5]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Attraction, Blood Kink, Breathplay, Conflict of Interests, Consensual Violence, F/M, Mirrors Kink, Sexual Tension, Sexual Violence, Slight Hate/Attraction, dies slowly and goes to hell for this, holy water is a must, really idk what this turned into, tokyo ghoul :re - Freeform, whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 01:33:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6683989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ace_of_Butterfly/pseuds/Ace_of_Butterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>n. lachesism</b>
  <br/>
  <i>"The desire to be struck by disaster — to survive a crash, to lose everything, to plunge over — which would put a kink in the smooth arc of your life, and forge it into something hardened and flexible and sharp, not just a stiff prefabricated beam that barely covers the gap between one end of your life and the other."</i>
</p><p> </p><p>There's an addicting, dark charm to contradictory worlds colliding against each other through lust. So is the pleasure cruelty and agressivenes can offer. Some depend on it, others just think it's an ill madness, but few people in particular seem to share a mutual liking to such corrupting delight.<br/>When you come face to face with Ayato Kirishima, things take a sharp turn. Into a disaster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lachesism

**Author's Note:**

> **DISCLAIMER: I do not own Tokyo Ghoul or any of its characters.**  
>  Set in the Tokyo Ghoul :re timeline. Like other works of mine I fished this from an oneshot on another site and edited to fit the purpose(the purpose of plain ayatoxreader smut because why not XD). It might be a little bit sort of too extreme but god knowns what those fished smuts are made from so excuse me while I go take a bath in holy water :D

Meet Ayato Kirishima. Your typical hot-tempered bad boy material and the twisted mentality of years into emotional self-conflict with scars of vindictive hardship are the perfect compounds to form such a handsome, impulsive and seemingly heartless bastard. It's a sin to be that good looking - you tell yourself. And yet, this male that could be - or rather said is sometimes - every girl's dream guy has a rotten soul flooded by obscure sarrows; putrid spiritual loneliness disturbed by rare intervals of acceptance to inner weakness, to yearning light. A living paradox amidst a monstrous life. Who said that someone so alluring could never hide deadly secrets? If so, and one thought him a saint then think again.

You were just a plain reporter chasing fame, one associated with the CCG, with the details kept at bay and the secrets covered up from public exposure. Aside from that you're one of the prettiest girls around the ward, even if you deny it with all your might. Expressive, glassy eyes and plump lips could fool any rich boy into kneeling to a subtle but confident goddess; where there was no physical tact of strength there would be strategies of diplomacy and ways to execute plans in zealous momentums, determination, stuborrness and courage working hand in hand with inteligence, agility and resistance. You wanted to make your popularity grow, to make it big. But having an affair or two with rich businessmen or investigators in order to climb up the ladder of success had never ever enticed you; definitely, you weren't that type of gold-digger. Instead, you desired thrill, danger and independence, the course of darkness that would turn your world upside down and shatter it in glowing pieces. And for that you've found out just the suitable amount of information to set the playing grounds on fire. You were going to expose the true feared, undiscovered and powerful person behind the Black Rabbit mask.

"Damn it..." your frustration is quite as you frantically rummage through drawers and files, sort of nervously bitting at your bottom lip every time seconds and minutes pass on and on; during the CCG's attack upon Aogiri you decided to try your luck and sneak into Black Rabbit's executive domain as everyone else was outside dueling to the death, you could bet. It was frightening. Ayato is frightening. His office has the size of a run-down, secluded hideout and you could anytime just hunt shadows in the middle of it because why not? The space small but flamboyant, all black old furniture and the smell of transcendent blood reeking off its walls could only make your stomach churn in anxienty and anticipation of who knows what future potential threats. What got you curious were the two walls by either side of his messy, rugged desk. Those were made of pure mirror, unlike the other two that were painted a nebulous, fadded grey-ish color. Why on earth would someone have walls of mirror in an office? Maybe it was in that fashion way before Aogiri used the building as base. It could have been. Regardless, the choice within this room pointed torwards Ayato.

"I see the CCG's little reporter got lost in my office. Did you find anything juicy for your article yet?"

Your heart dropped in your stomach at the sound of a raspy voice behind you; he knows - you realized. Breath hittched in the back of your throat and eyes wide open, you curse yourself for being so reckless. In the midst of your thoughts you didn't even notice him. You were screwed.

"Now, don't be shy. C'mon, turn around. Let me see your pretty face, weakling." Ayato snarls and kicks the door closed behind him, the noise causing you to jump in place slightly. His sentences were fluid, underlining hints here and there; you've done a horrible mistake by conspiring his lack of knowledge because indeed, he's aware of your identity as much as you are of his, turns out.

For a second you hesitate. Looking down at the opened drawer your hand remained stuck in thanks to his sudden, shocking entrance, you try your best to regain focus. And you do. As your figure turns around slowly to face him you think that Ayato won't even figure out you had snuck the small switchblade long forgotten in his drawer, in your hand. However, you're dead wrong.

"I like the fact that you think a mere piece of metal can defend you from me." Ayato scowls and gradually he steps forward, each step he takes in forcing you to back away. Untill your back is pressed against the left side mirror wall.

"Fuck you, Ayato Kirishima. I'm not scared of you." You grit through your teeth, hating how you let him corner you, nonetheless. Seizing him with your look of coldness you instinctively react to his further movements. When Ayato closes the distance in, arms on either sides of your waist, your hand flips up, blade touching his cheekbone.

He stares at you for a moment. Two. Three. A smirk dances on Ayato's face and he looks behind you, in the mirror surface of the wall. There he sees a thin cut glistening on his face, blood starting to coat the minuscle line in a flaring crimson; and just like it's been there it fades away, his RC cells patching the skin to its original state untill all that's left is just the stain of blood.

"Did they teach you anything before letting you here?" He leans and whispers in your ear, his semi mocking retort echoing down your neck. "You shouldn't mess with me, unless you're ready to face consequences."

"I came here on my own accord and-" you get rendered quite when he grabs your wrist and slams your arm on the wall, the blade flying out of your grasp. He's griping at your wrist roughly and in the chaos of shaking heartbeats and adrenaline rushing through your veins like a wild fire, you feel a strange urge to give in; it's a wonder your arm isn't broken yet and simultaneously the pain does nothing but easing you into the unknown's embrace. You don't want to admit but you may like what it leads to. A lot.

"Stay away from me, Kirishima." You hiss and push at his chest with your other arm. He, on the other hand, smirks.

"Like hell you're slipping out of this. You can't just walk in my office like it's the most obvious thing to do and get away with it. No, you're going to learn your lesson and not stick your nose into people's business next time." Ayato's face turns darker, yet the smirk is still there, lingering. Letting go of your arm he takes a step back, looking you up and down with hunger in his eyes and a looming trace of something else.

"Don't be so sure. I'm not going to let you turn me into one of Aogiri's prisoners that you keep shackled and battered to the bone just to torture the living breaths out of them for your sick enjoyment." you scoff and push forward, to leave. But then again Ayato is the spawn of Satan. He gave you freedom for a second there and now he takes it back.  
  
"You're right." His visage is a mixture of amusement and undefined interest before it becomes cold, wanton and even malicious. Hands traveling to your neck in a blink, you hear yourself half squawking alertly when you're being choked and pressed back against the mirrored wall without any form of remorse from the other.  
  
"Because you'll be my favourite." Ayato continues and watches as your mouth parts in desperation to breath, your struggle being his delight, despite not giving you the chance to notice much. In the meantime, you're conflicted; you drown in a sea of repulsive wants and uncertain ideas, taking over your usual demeanor.  
  
Without thinking twice you grab his face and pull him close, lips crashing onto his boldly. Your head is pounding, the blood in your body pulsing as if it's going to break out of your skin; it's suffocating, troubling and cruely numbing. Breathless and lost in his trap, you let your fingers carress the cut on his cheekbone you made and which is no longer there, kissing him. Ayato isn't one to reject the sudden gesture - to your both surprise and bewilderment -and he joins in coarsely, harshly biting at your lip. He satiates some of his thirst with the aromatic droplets of carmine he licks at, right off the tip of his tongue and your abused lips.  
  
You feel a profound haze of conquering blurr from the deprivation of air, the effect of his tongue sliding past your parted lips and your furious, savaged kiss gaining an even stronger sensation crossing throughout what makes up for your initiation and his reign of lecherous urges.  
  
"You're... a good looking guy, and interesting. Even when you hate humans. When you hate me, now, perhaps..." you pant as soon as he breaks off the kiss and releases your throat, touching his merely disheveled locks of midnight blue in a fugitive grip. You could feel your lips swollen and your breath barely stable but you weren't going to lie. You felt good. And it was only the beginning.  
  
"This comes from a strange human who should've cowered at my feets or run out. You're either bat shit crazy or not human enough." Ayato states blankly and takes you off guard once again, tossing you over on top of his desk, after he'd lifted his foot and got rid of everything, papers and stuff dropping to the floor unceremoniously like trash in a bin. Albeit unprepared, you don't protest this time, simply siting there, legs halfway parted as your skirt rides up to reveal the skin of your thighs against your will, to his visual rapture.  
  
"Actually, you're a nice catch for a human. And I bet you'd look even better..."  
  
"Ayato-" you breath in once he pulls out another switchblade and nestles between your legs with ease, allowing you to note that your limbs seem to listen more to his ministrations than they do to you. Then, the blade lowers and it touches your mildly twitching thigh, tip drawing a thin, blossoming red cut.  
  
"...like this." He stares you in the eyes with a glint of dazing evilness, seeing your breath accelerating and the paused moan you nearly slip past you tongue at the mercy of his dominance and treatment. You don't answer and instead tug at his dress shirt, unbuttoning at it fastly, choosing to mute your declarations of failure to resist his ill, sadistic intentions fueled by your own unity into the depth of chaos.  
  
Ayato doesn't holds back any longer. Scattering a few other short cuts on the inside of your thighs, he then grips your waist firmly, forcing you back against the desk. Finally, you moan because the way he manhandles you is sort of turning you on. He's rough and unpredictable, and you like that.  
  
"You know-" you start as he pulls your legs up, his mouth meeting the skin of your now bruised thighs. You shiver when he bites down into your flesh, right next to one of the crimson slashes that oozes a single drop of blood, staining the corner of his lips; he savours it, tongue pressing in a sting against the cuts, canins digging into milkiness every now and then, to his heart's content.  
  
"I-" you inhale sharply, watching his sinful face, pitch black and red orbs beelining into your sight from underneath his bangs. "Those mirror walls- I'm curious-" you mutter, trying not to moan.  
  
Ayato makes a sound in his deepening voice, a cross between a very short chuckle and a hum, then straightens up. He literally pounces on you, attacking your pulse with kisses that are nowhere near loving but plain deranged and the next thing he does has you trembling under him unconsciously. Your blouse gets ripped off brutally and the pair of angry lips kiss and bite at your collarbones insanely. Maybe he's inflicting years and years of hatred torwards humanity into your flesh, like lettering ink, and you could've sworn one of the bites are bleeding too much, the swirl of painful pleasure starting to overwhelm you from all the alleviating suffering you're experiencing.  
  
"There's nothing about them. But if you're into that kind of things I can see why you're curious - no, not curious, but excited." He rasps huskly and swivels you up on the desk like a doll rotated on a pedestal, standing behind you. Your vision looks ahead, viewing your reflection into the mirrored wall, neither admiting nor denying what the ghoul just implied. You can see Ayato's smirking mouth on your shoulder, his hands snaking down your thighs; he's proved his point and you've lost the game. He clutches at your skin, fingers digging in with no restraint, enough to leave behind ugly scrapes of ownership, absorbing you in the black paradise of what is transpiring into satisfying nothingness, stripping you off of your pride, well natured judgement and sanity.  
  
"Just fuck me already. I can't take it anymore-" you sign your submission and yank his head over your shoulder, turning to kiss and nibble the slope of his jawline freely.  
  
"Mhmm." Ayato agrees, concealing his equal desire; he growls at your touches and turns you to face him, getting rid of your bra and the poor fabric of your skirt fastly. You're all over him, pulling at his clothes, clawing at his shoulders, prodding and tracing the clothed muscles longing for you secretly. You take the liberty to tug at his shirt untill the rest of the buttons get ripped, somewhat a way too indecent shade of your impatience. You can finally touch him, feel him.  
  
"See? I told you you're going to be my favourite." His breath fans over your lips, liking how you're violent too, intermingling with his mad roughness and need. Helping you with his clothes that slump on the floor just like yours, he then holds you by the hips and proceeds to thrust his hard length into the wetness of your heat without much of a warning or time to adjust, eliciting a gasp from you.  
  
"A-Ayato-" you moan loudly at the contrary feeling of both being stretched around him and plugged into a wave of satisfaction, legs climbing up his waist as you strangle him in between your thighs, feeling his cock filling you up and the precise thrusts he hammers in. Hands hanging over his back and nails scratching his muscles in bliss, you can't think of anything but how your body is crushed against his and the pleasure searing through. You're shamelessly turning into a moaning mess and you don't regret biting at his shoulder and leaving nasty marks over the upper side of his back from how desperately you claw at it; his skin heals anyway, eventhough you proudly try harder and clutch your fingers around his flesh tighter, to atleast leave faint prints.  
  
"You don't even hide how fucking much you like this." The male snickers in between pants of breaths, guttural growls emitting from his throat every time you touch that one spot over his shoulder blades where his kagune organ is situated. "I'm going to fuck you so hard untill you want to be fucked only by me." He groans then pushes you down on the desk, fingers once again grasping around your throat. He smirks for the nth time, pounding into you with more force, faster and harder, throwing all his personal principles and morals against humans out of the window in the favour of the current hurricane you two got tangled in.  
  
Your eyelids are hooded, mouth forming an O shape. There goes the over stimulation again, the whole action of getting choked sending you near the edge, Ayato's appearance blurring in and out of your line of concentration. You're struck by the hitting euphoria in a higher level due to this, feeling your walls starting to convulse around his member as Ayato thrusts in and out of you, the sweat appearing on both of your burning bodies, incarcerated by blazing lust and the abandonment of reality for this very fraction.  
  
"Ayato, please-" you whimper with a long moan that makes him grunt in return, knowing you're close to release. Letting go of your neck, he grabs your arms instead and pins them on the desk, on either sides of your head, his noir scarlet gaze consuming your mind and senses in frozen terror poisoned by the forbidden fruit of carnal acomplishment.  
  
"Go on, scream for me." Ayato groans and hovers above you, his chest pressing down onto your breasts before he sucks at your neck, grazing soft skin in between his teeth with another row of mauling hickeys. His hips snap forward, ramming inside of your slouching sex repeatedly, as hard as he wants and it does wonders to your intoxicated self, as much as it affects him too, pleasantly and feverously.  
  
"Oh my- Ayato!" You're blindly giving in, screaming at last, tightening your fingers into the muscles of his shoulder blades, legs quivering from the overpowering, throbbing orgasm. Not long after you feel him cuming too, breath heavily tingling your jawline as he chants your name quitely, so foreign and bitter on his hot, feral breath. And then he lifts his head up, hair flushed with perspiration and the remnants of ghoul irises lacing back to the color of the sky damped in icy nights, looking at you with a blunt gaze, still holding your form pinned underneath of him.  
  
"On second thought, I think I'll keep you."  
  
"No, no, no. This will not happen again. This was... just a meaningless turn of events." you spat, glaring into his eyes.  
  
"Are you sure about that, you liar? No one can get you out of here now, you fucking knew that when you steped past that door." He challenges, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Fuck you." you curse in annoyance, kicking his side with your leg. This earns an amused grin from Ayato, his lips dangerously close to yours just like they used to be moments ago.  
  
"You'll have some other time to enjoy that." He smirks. "But..."  
  
The kakugan posesses his eyes again and you can see a hunger that won't settle down with only modest amounts of your blood. Ayato's smirk widens, untill all that's left to see are his teeths, bared and stalking your shoulder, causing your chest to race up and down along with your wrenched heart. Your limbs stiffen, expecting to brace the worst.  
  
"...later."  
  
A scream. It's the last thing the investigators hear from way up at the third floor. It's a scream of agony, signaling their losing battle and the death awaiting them with one sole survivor chained to Ayato's decisions.


End file.
